


Black Moon

by TheHatterTheory



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Blood, Bloodplay, Canon Compliant, Consensual, F/M, Feral Behavior, Lemon, Magic, Power Play, Rituals, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-23
Updated: 2012-04-23
Packaged: 2017-11-04 05:06:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHatterTheory/pseuds/TheHatterTheory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the night of the Black Moon, Kagome agrees to help Kouga with a ritual neither of them fully understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Moon

Black Moon  
By: The Hatter Theory  
Chapter One  
Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Inu Yasha  
Note: A black moon refers to a period every 3-4 years when there is a month with 2 new moons.  


~*~

  


Water, cool and cleansing, coursed down over her skin in streaming rivulets, washing away grit and sweat. Stretching as the dust of everyday life washed away, she looked to the sky and gave a lazy smile. In only a few hours the sun would set, and she would be free for another night. And this night, especially, was important.

“Will you just hurry the fuck up?” A voice shouted from behind a nearby boulder.

She rolled her eyes but said nothing. Inu Yasha was as sensitive as ever about his 'time of the month' and that it was occurring for a second time this month only frustrated him more, something he had no trouble expressing. Grateful that Shippou was still at the school learning more about his own magics so that he didn't have to endure the hanyou's bellowing, she sank into the water, eyes on the sky again.

Four years, and how times had changed. Her unconventional ways had been tolerated for only so long, and her friendships had sunk her relations with the villagers of the small village she had called home. Jineji's visit had been the last straw for the nervous humans. Kaede's death had left her without true defense. 

The irony of living in a once taijiya village crowded with human, youkai and hanyou alike was not lost of her, but Sango had suggested it, despite the memories and graves that lingered. Even Inu Yasha, sensitive to such things, had not seemed entirely displeased to end up there. Perhaps he enjoyed the strange twist as much as he enjoyed anything. Not to mention the influx of other youkai, creatures that, like him, were stuck between humans mortal years and youkai's seeming eternity.

And she was a miko to both humans and youkai, perhaps separate from them all for her distinction. It had opened her eyes to rites and magic she'd never dreamed existed, all very well within her reach, all working with the natural order of the earth. 

The significance of the night was not lost on her, nor was the request that she attend. Kouga's message via Hakkaku had said that it was rare for a black moon to occur, and this time he didn't want to miss the chance to perform the ritual. Hakkaku had admitted that since Ayame had died two years before in battle, Kouga had been working solely for the pack, and that seeing a friend, especially for the rite, would perhaps bring him out of that. 

She'd only read vague descriptions of the rite, and it's meaning had either never been grasped or lost to time, perhaps not written of at all. It could very easily be that the person that had written down the information in the old scrolls hadn't wished to, the writing was easily biased against youkai, not that it surprised her considering it belonged to the village. 

But what little had been gleaned made it sound nothing short of barbaric, another biased description, she was sure. 

“Goddamnit Kagome, hurry the fuck up, we need to get there soon!”

She huffed, wondering why Inu Yasha didn't just trust Kouga with the information of his transformation. It wasn't as if they hadn't all fought together four years before, and Kouga had more than proven trustworthy. However, no matter how she tried to reason it, the hanyou stayed illogically stubborn. Giving up had saved both of them both headaches.

“Kagome!”

Until now.

“Coming!” She snapped angrily, shouting loud enough that his hearing, fading into a normal human's as it was, would probably still affect him badly. Hopefully his ehad would hurt as much as hers and she wouldn't have to listen to his belly aching. 

Getting out, she ignored the chill breeze as she quickly dressed in her miko robes. Unlike Kikyo, she had chosen green, although it was unconventional for a woman. Anything to not seem like the dead priestess. Breaking away from the village had been a blessing in that she was allowed to create a new identity separate from her former incarnation, save for those that had seen the dead miko on their travels, and her friends never spoke of the miko.

Quickly wrapping her sarashi and fundoshi, she wistfully remembered bras and panties before pulling on her kimono, tying it before tugging on the green hakama. Her hair was still damp, but it would dry by the time they reached the den, at least she hoped. She didn't want to arrive looking bedraggled when the ritual was so rare and important to the pack.

When she finished, she shouldered her quiver and bow and walked around the boulder, not surprised in the least to see Inu Yasha sitting, arms folded and features pulled into a scowl. She tapped his knee with her foot, determined not to give in to his antics by apologizing. It would just set a precedent she had, for the most part, torn down and banished.

“You told me to hurry up,” She reminded him. “Now come on.”

He said nothing as he stood and bent his knees, arms out. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and lifted each leg, letting him grab them. Despite the fact that her return had not ended in mating, as she had thought it would while she had been in her birth era, she didn't mind the contact. Inu Yasha had grown into something of an annoying younger brother, younger only because he was immature and annoying. Despite his age he still seemed like a teenager, probably would for a century or two more, although it was hard to tell. 

As he ran through the field she realized his strength was already flagging, earlier than it normally would. He wasn't as fast as normal, and she could hear his labored breathing over the sound of the grass whipping against the red hakama he wore. 

Worried that he might transform sooner than normal, he kept her eyes fastened on the sun as it continued it's descent. If his strength was failing, as well as his speed, she wasn't sure they would make it before dusk, which was paramount. Several times she was tempted to ask him how much farther they had to go. Even though the world was blurring by, she had no trouble seeing the lengthening shadows as the sky deepened from blue to azure.

“Not far,” He muttered an eternity later, when her legs had begun to cramp from being held so tightly to his body. He was obviously as worried as she, although for different reasons. Knowing anything she said would only further aggravate him, she kept silent, eyes focused on the horizon.

When the cliffs came into view he slowed, stopping about a mile away. True twilight had descended, and she could tell from his gait alone that he was close. When he let her down and turned to her, she could see that his eyes were already violet. 

“If you walk and call for them, they should be able to hear,” He told her, not even giving her a chance to reply before he was running in the opposite direction.

Even though she understood his fear and caution, it didn't mean she had to like walking the rest of the way. Grumbling, she looked to the sky again, noting that what had been purples and pink and blues were becoming different shades of blue. Even stars were beginning to show. With no moon to tell her if she was too late, she began jogging, trying not to trip in the voluminous folds of the hakama. Cursing them as she stumbled, she picked them up in her hands and hurried. Despite not liking her friends reasoning, she was still sensitive to it, and waited several minutes ot make sure that they had gained some distance from one another.

Pausing, she inhaled deeply before letting out a loud call.

“Hello!” She shouted. “It's me, Kagome!” She added, hoping that whoever heard it would at least recognize the name, if not her. Continuing at a more sedate pace, she kept calling out, hoping someone would hear her.

“Sister!” A voice called out. A moment later Ginta came into view, hand waving frantically. “You're late!” He admonished when he reached her. She let out a breathless laugh when he picked her up, not even pausing to ask if it was alright before he was running for wherever it was she was supposed to be. 

Whatever hope she had of an explanation of the rite vanished. Obviously she was late. But anxiety quickly swamped her excitement. Other than a few garbled descriptions, half of which had been made by someone that obviously hated youkai and wanted to cast an ugly light on the ritual, she had no clue what was going to happen or how. 

“Ginta,” She started.

“Almost there. We might make it on time.”

Being late and utterly ignorant would be beyond bearing, so she remained silent on the matter, hoping against all odds that she would be able to walk through it without giving away how little she actually knew. Heart beat speeding up the longer he ran, she nervously twisted her fingers, worried her lip between her teeth. 

When they broke into the clearing, she was surprised and half blinded by the bonfire already roaring. Ginta stopped, setting her gently on her feet and further shocking her by bowing lightly before stepping back.

“You're late,” A voice groused. She turned and saw Kouga, characteristic pony tail and headband gone, apparently taking holiday with his armor. Trying not to stare at the blatant display of muscle and flesh, she locked her eyes on his face, determined not to blush. She was there for a ritual, not to gawk at youkai!

“It was a long trip,” She commented quietly. He nodded, inclining his head towards a boulder and walking to it. Shadows wavered and flickered as the fire writhed up higher, smoke pouring into the darkness. Following him over to it, she was finally able to make out the stone bowl and a dagger, it's blade white and slightly curved, reminding her of a fang or a claw.

“Do you know what to do?” He asked, staring down at her. There seemed to be a sort of anticipation thrumming through his tone, not quivering but leashed, giving it a rough quality. Looking from the bowl to him, she considered lying, considered just mimicking what he did. But the ritual was important, whatever it was meant to do, and she couldn't fail her friend when he had sought her out for it.

“I've only found vague descriptions, and those were biased,” She admitted. “From the scrolls in the taijiya village.”

“I'll have to cut you,” He said quietly. 

She had figured as much, had prepared for it. It had been called a blooding, and by now she had encountered more than her fair share of rites that had required such an offering, or sacrifice. A little blood meant nothing.

“That's fine,” She said, nodding. 

“And you'll have to cut me.”

Something else she had assumed, correctly it seemed. Nodding again, she reached out her hand and pulled up her sleeve, but he shook his head.

“Not yet,” He told her, turning and looking at the pack that had gathered. “They need time.”

“Time for what?”

“My father told me of the last time the ritual was performed, about four centuries ago now. It makes the others nervous. He said if I ever had the chance to let them drink and find the thread in the music.”

“What makes them nervous?” Because if they were nervous, she obviously had reason to be nervous. Drunk nervous ookami sounded like a bad crowd.

“The power. They aren't used to magic.”

“What- Kouga what is this supposed to accomplish?” She asked quietly, watching the others begin to gravitate to the fire, drinks in hand. Music began to mix with the sound of the fire, simplistic drumming with beats that clashed before settling into something uniform.

“The mutt didn't tell you?” He asked, brows raising in surprise.

“He didn't know,” She admitted.

“Hmm,” Kouga rumbled, running a hand through his hair. “The blooding is a way to recognize a member of the pack. On the black moon it's said that all powers are equal, and that the gods, blind to our world, can't stop bridges from being created.”

“Bridges?”

“Alliances,” He clarified. “You will be an ally we can run to should we ever need it, as well as a true pack member. It wouldn't be honorary anymore.”

“But I have the village,” She began.

“You don't have to live here,” He snorted. “But you can also demand our protection and receive it, if it's needed. It won't be much different than now, except I'll be pissed if you don't visit more often,” He added. 

She nodded, remembering Hakkaku's observation of his beloved leader. Kouga needed people to bring him out of his duties, at least for a time. If she was being given such a role in his pack, as a miko and as a human, then she couldn't repay the trust with apathy and distance.

“I promise,” She vowed quietly as the drumming grew louder. He nodded, smiling softly before turning to look back at the group. Already youkai were circling the fire, dancing and leaping over it. Howls sometimes wove their way into the beat and the dissonant sound of the conflagration. Impossible leaps and lithe dancing created shadows that reached out, shivered and shuddered in time to the drumming.

Something in the howls, in the thudding of the drums reached into her, just as the contorting, twisting shadows swept over her, blanketing her in moments of darkness. It was the same magic she had felt before, and when Kouga offered her a skin, she took it willingly and tipped it back. The burn of the drink was as strong as some of the concoctions she had made for her own rituals, a sweetness beneath the sting of something that could have been alcohol or herbs. 

Inhaling deeply when she handed it back, the air seemed colder in the wake of the drink. She watched Kouga take a long pull from it before offering it again.

“Trying to get me drunk?” She asked as she accepted it.

“No, that's to help with the pain,” He told her. 

Doubting that he was overly worried about his own pain, she shrugged and tipped the skin back again, finding the sweet below the bitter and savoring it as the cool drink rushed over her tongue. When she had finished again, she handed it back. He only wrapped the top tightly with a cord and tossed it to someone nearby that was sitting.

A sort of chorus had joined the drumming, indistinct and ethereal for it's vagueness. It was not made of words, or if it was, it was in the language of the ookami. Wishing for just a moment that she could understand them, she looked to Kouga, who nodded and looked to the make shift altar.

“They should be ready for it by now, or at least oblivious,” He said, grabbing the knife.

“Do I have to say anything?” She asked, knowing that in some rituals, words were power and the wrong thing could destroy any intended outcome.

“Not that I know of,” He chuckled as he turned the knife in his hand, handle offered to her. She accepted it, looking at the outstretched arm and the palm. She cradled it in her free hand, hefting the knife and placing it over the skin.

“How much?”

They really should have discussed the ritual before getting into the middle of it, but she supposed there wasn't any time for regrets or a walk through.

“We need to fill the bowl.”

She glanced at the stone bowl.

At least it was relatively shallow and small. She would survive the cut he made and the loss without any ill effect, at least she hoped so. It was still more than she had ever tried to use.

Knowing going slowly would only result in dragging it out and making the cut more painful, she swiftly pulled the blade across his skin, trusting in the edge. Within the span of a second she saw blood welling up. He held his hand over the bowl, and she watched it stream from his turned hand into the shallow basin. Giving him the knife, she held out her hand over the small bowl using her free hand to cradle it, brushing against his, and waited.

He was more sure, more confident with the dagger, the white curved blade whispering over her flesh in a brief moment of pressure. She barely felt anything at all, not even the normal stinging as blood welled up quickly, easily. Turning her hand, she watched the twin streams drop down into the bowl, mixing together.

Heat from the alcohol, from the pulsing in her hand, from the fire and the music conspired against her. Her kimono was easily too hot, sweat beading her skin and sliding down the small of her back and between her breasts. Even Kouga, wearing nothing but his normal fur loincloth was covered in a sheen of sweat.

Looking back to the fire she saw, not surprisingly, that most of the youkai had opted to go light on their own clothing. Male and females alike were mostly bare, with loincloths and leather draped over their chest. The most she saw any of the men wearing was a vest of some sort, and even some of the women were wearing only the vests to cover themselves, the front open to expose skin shiny with perspiration.

“I think that's enough,” He told her, dragging her back to the task at hand. A quick glance at the bowl proved that it was almost overflowing, and she pulled her hand away. Looking to the fire again, she gave in, shyness fading in the face of pragmatism. She opened her kimono and shrugged it off of her shoulders, letting it hang from where it was tucked into her hakama.

“Human women wear odd shit,” Was all Kouga said, his lips pulling into a smirk.

“It's too hot,” She muttered, flushing. He nodded in understanding, and grateful that he made no other comment on it, she watched him grab the bowl. Wondering what came next and trusting him to lead her through it, she observed quietly as he dipped his thumb into the bowl.

When he reached out and she felt the sticky slickness of their blood on her forehead, she didn't jump away or speak. His thumb slid down, from her hair line over the bridge of her nose, bisecting her face with a line of heat. His thumb was rough, the skin callused and ridged. The tip of his claw dragged in it's wake, light enough to keep from harming her but reminding her that he was not human.

When his brushed over her lips she saw his eyes darken. It could have been the pitching, roiling shadows flickering over them, but she would swear he paused for the slightest moment before continuing, finger dragging against her lower lip before going down her chin. She tilted her head up as he continued the line following the curve and slope of her neck all the way down to her collarbone. This time she knew she did not imagine the pause, or the feel of his claw pressing into her flesh. Tilting her head forward, she locked gazes with him again, startled by the intent, focused heat.

He didn't even break his gaze when he held the bowl out to her, and she dipped her thumb into the wet mixture before moving forward, standing raising on the front balls of her feet to reach his hairline.

His skin was slick from sweat, and she moved slowly, feeling as if she had been sighted by a hunter and been deemed choice prey. His eyes bore into her own, forcing her to continue looking up at him even as she soothed the blood over the bridge of his nose and down until she reached his lips.

They parted lightly, his tongue, slick and hot, brushed against her thumb, the tip barely making contact before it was gone. But the feeling persisted, a jolt that tingled, traveling beneath the skin and through her blood. Heat burned in her chest, rising up the column of her neck in a blush she couldn't retrain as she continued, using their blood to paint his face, down his neck and over the swell of his adams apple. 

The drums seemed to find her heartbeat, or her heartbeat found the rhythm of the drums, pounding in her ears and vibrating through her. Her thumb traveled lower, down between his collarbones and over his chest, delighting in the hard muscle until the line faded.

Saying nothing, he put the bowl to her lips, and she accepted when he tilted it, her mouth opening to accept the offering. She'd never drunk blood before, and the coppery taste flooded over her tongue, foreign and strangely charged, as if the blood itself carried their power. It slid down her throat, hot and dizzying, as if it burned a path all the way down to her belly. Intoxicating, like strong alcohol. She took the bowl, reached until it was to his lips.

His eyes closed as she tipped it, she watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed twice, and then he pulled back. When his eyes opened they were blazing in the firelight, reflecting it until the ice blue seemed red orange, terrible and entrancing. He took the bowl and sat it down. Unable to stop herself, she reached out again, thumb running across his lips and wiping at the dark remnants. This time his tongue ran over the pad, licking off the almost black stain.

A shudder wracked her body when she felt the pointed tip of a fang glancing over her skin before retreating. Shock and sparks danced along her skin, body tightening in response to the sensation. Her hand dropped uselessly to her side as she fell into the burnished reflection of the fire caught in his eyes. He reached out, no hesitation, no permission and swiped his thumb over her lips, repeating her actions.

Mouth still filled with the aftertaste of their sacrifice, she opened her lips, ran her tongue over his finger, lapping lightly to remove the evidence of their ritual. His claw pressed into the soft tissue, dangerous and thrilling. Her body felt tighter, heavier beneath his gaze, a sensuous, carnal heat coiling in her stomach.

When his youki flared, brilliant and dazzling and overpowering, pushing at her, she let her own energy slip it's leash, pushed as she was pushed against. Lightning burst between them, making itself known only by the feeling of something heavy and sharp colliding. Inimical energies threaded through and tangled with one another, and as he poured more of his energy into the silent battle, so did she. A declaration of strength turned into a battle of wills, a need to dominate and blanket each other. 

She knew, instinctively, that he was not trying to harm her, knew just as well that she was not trying to harm him. But her blood roared in her ears, overpowering the beat of the drums until the sounds were indistinguishable from one another. Their ki burned the air, swelling and demanding submission, continuing to grow and strain for victory. 

Pausing, as if hitting an invisible barrier, she snarled, too lost in the battle to care that the sound hadn't been entirely human, or even strange coming from her throat. His lips drew back, exposing fangs glittering in the light before he answered, the answering growl laced with something more than command, bordering on anger but missing it and brushing against something else. 

A triumphant, arrogant sound filled with pride escaped her throat as she threw herself into the psychical fray and gave everything, feeding her power into the knotted, twisted paths of their ki. Another booming, echoing snarl erupted as she felt him do the same. Like a storm reaching it apex, the energies pulsed in time with their hearts before shattering and blending. Distinction lost, she felt the press of the transformed energy around her, sinking into her flesh and settling, savage and primal, heating her blood and ripping a vibrating howl from her throat. Heady, enticing, intoxicating, the energy thrummed through her, amplifying her her senses and sending them into overdrive. 

The air against her skin, the heat of the fire, sweat running down her back, everything was charged and noticed, felt a thousand times more than it had ever been before. Something wild broke in her, purring at the sight of his fanged smile. The power, her power, transformed beyond her understanding, accepted her command, obeyed as she pushed against him, initiating the battle again. 

The same power answered, the underlying flavor of it tasting of sweat and blood and wolf. Something wicked, more personal and dark was in it, an intention she read and felt. Smiling, feeling like her own smile was as frightening and drawing as his, she pushed against him again, darting to the fire and leaping into the circle, eyes on him as he watched.

Shadows writhed and howls echoed through the night. She could feel feet stamping the ground in time with the feet, fell into it as easily as she breathed. Her heart pumped into time with the music, her own howls mixing with those of the pack. The tempo flowed, changed, returned, and she threw herself into the whirling, dizzying pace of the dance. Rolling her hips and running her hands over her body, she trembled, the sensations still so vivid as to border on painful. Greedy for more, desperate for release from the ever tightening coil, she tossed her head, spun and let her power flare, finding only vague relief from the pressure.

The snarl that sounded behind her was proceeded by the feel of his youki wrapping around her, a declaration of control. Feeling powerful and wild, she pushed back, defying it, defying him. Even as electricity skittered over her skin she turned raised her arms over her head, bent back and moved her hips. It was blatant presentation, and she could feel his gaze devouring her. Opening her eyes, she saw his hand reaching out and twirled lightly on her feet, moving further away from him.

The other dancers seemed as lost as she was, perhaps more so. They said nothing of the clash of ki, didn't acknowledge her weaving through them, dancing and howling with them. Bright eyes reflecting the light and heads tilted back to call out to the absent moon, they seemed to urge her own wordlessly. Despite her focus on the feel of Kouga following her, watching her, she was not oblivious to the movements becoming more sensual, to the sight of bared breasts and hands moving over taut bellies and muscled chests.

For a moment she lost sight of him, could only feel his energy teasing at her skin, a phantom caress that tried to ensnare. Another howl echoed over the sound of the fire and she spun, seeing a figure leaping over the blaze and landing in front of her. The power multiplied, as if he had lost patience, the sentiment given form in a bestial snarl that rubbed against over oversensitive skin and echoed through her.

Still defiant despite the heady, throbbing need coursing through her flesh, searing her blood, she pushed against him again, the sound issuing from deep in her chest a challenge. She saw the muscles of his arms bunching, as if he was preparing to reach for her. Once again she moved away, ignoring the steps of the dance and moving from the circle, away from the light of the fire and into the darkness. 

Despite the moonless night she could see clearly as she ran into the shadows and left the clearing behind. Stumbling, she paused only to kick off her sandals before running again, crashing through the forest. Feeling feral and sensual, she felt him chasing her, could feel the unrelenting grasp of his power as a rumbling growl echoed through the wood. Her movements kicked up the sharp scents of moist dirt and rotting leaves, those mixing with the scent of sweat and blood and burned ozone as she let her power flare again.

She wasn't trying to hide, wasn't even trying to escape, but she didn't know if she wanted to be caught so much as catch, or even subdue or be subdued. But the world was sharp and bright to her, the edges of everything clearly defined, all the more enchanting as exhilaration fought with desire in her body.

When his body slammed into hers the air whooshed from her lungs as they fell to the ground and rolled. Already fighting, she was squirming beneath him, his arms wrapping around her to trap her own at her sides. His bare chest rubbed against her back and his groin grinding into bottom as another snarl vibrated in her ear, the exhalation of breath and the sound thundering through her as his youki pulsed in tightly controlled waves. Everywhere his skin made contact she felt as if she was being burned, the sensation of slick skin rubbing against her almost too much for her to bear.

“Submit,” He commanded harshly, lips brushing against her ear.

She said nothing, but flared her ki again, feeling it press against his own. An angry rumble echoed in his chest, his arms tightening around her. A low moan erupted from her throat when she felt his cock pressing against her through their clothing. The craving for relief laced with the need to declare her power, clashing dissonance. Shamelessly she ground her bottom against him, writhing in his grasp even as she forced her ki out in unrelenting waves.

The sound that he made was dark, savage as his hips bucked forward. The feel of his fangs sinking into her shoulder surged through her, a wash of icy cold lancing through the heat and straight to her sex. Unsure if her cry was from pain she didn't feel or from the sudden dizzying sensations, she keened loudly, words lost as she pleaded with him.

His answer was to pull back, and the air chilled her skin where he had been only a second before as he let go and roughly flipped her onto her back. For the first time since she had given a wordless invitation, she saw his face. Any semblance of civility was lost, his eyes reflecting what little light there was eerily, teeth gnashing as he snarled again. Far from terror, her body tightened with anticipation, her answering sound inhuman and defiant in spite of the lust pulsing through her. 

He was not gentle as his hand tugged at the sarashi, wrapping around it and pulling it from her body. The sound of fabric rending combined with another impatient snarl before her breasts were bared. The strips of fabric fell away and his hand moved down the valley between them, claws pressing into her skin and enticing a dark thrill, her body arching of it's own volition as she sought more contact.

He continued down, his youki almost oppressive in it's demand. She flared her own again, the action almost unconscious as she squirmed and twitched. His response was to pull at the waistband of her hakama, the fabric bruising her flesh as he ripped the thick fabric. A strangled sound escaped as he pulled at her fundoshi, pulling it up to press against her slit. Delicious pressure only increased the ache as she rolled her hips in an attempt for more.

“Submit.” It was barely coherent, lost in sounds that only monsters could make, caught between human speech and bestial growling. She added strength to the waves of ki she pushed at him with, shoving rudely in her mindlessness even as she shifted her hips. 

His kiss was demanding, smothering in it's demand for entrance and surrender. Her tongue slicked against fangs before she bit down hard on his lip, tasting blood. He didn't falter, her brazen opposition seeming to only steel his resolve. His blood was hot, metallic and flavored their kiss with lightning. Sounds vibrated over her tongue and lips, mixing and becoming lost. He pulled her legs apart, pressed against her sex, the friction making her moan as her hands gripped his arms, nails digging in.

When he pulled away she panted, trying to find words to beg but only able to groan as he bent to flick his tongue over her nipple. Arching into the contact, she tangled her hands in his hair and pulled him closer, the hot wetness of his mouth contrasting with the searing cold of his fangs grazing the sensitive peak. Her cry was a garbled plea for more, turning into a scream when his teeth closed over it and tugged. Breathless with want, she felt his hands moving over her stomach, claws leaving raised trails in their wake before grabbing her hips. 

The pinprick sensation of his claws digging into her skin as he roughly pulled her against him blended into the friction he provided, the keen edge of pain only increasing her pleasure. He released her nipple, the air cold compared the the heat of his mouth, increasing the pain, intensifying it as he moved to her other breast, laving the sensitive flesh before taking it between his teeth and tightening his hold. Pain jolted through her, pulsing coldly, shivering through her flesh.

Their ki continued to clash as he moved further down her body, lips slick with saliva and fangs nipping and grazing over her skin. Unable to keep from moving, she ran her hands through his hair, rubbed her legs against his stomach and arms as he moved lower and lower. Unapologetic and unabashed he bit at her flesh, growls and snarls spanning over her abused skin. 

When his head was between her legs he nuzzled the fabric covering her sex, nose pressing against her slit as he inhaled deeply. Whimpering moans wove into the night, her hands tightening in his hair to pull him closer. He reached under her legs, grabbed her wrists and pulled them out of his hair and back, pinning them to the ground as a rumbling purr vibrated against her pussy. 

Her muscled tensed as he turned his face and nuzzled the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. His lips brushed over it and then the sensation of his fangs piercing flesh shattered something in her, her wail echoing through the forest as her ki flared, like a bubble bursting, spiraling into the night and crashing down on them both as he responded. 

Her fundoshi was ripped away, his teeth pulling at it, grip bruising her wrists as his tongue snaked out to slip over the wet flesh of her slit. Lips and tongue and vibrating, rumbling growls wove together in a sensual assault. Greedy and wanton, she spread her legs wider, hips bucking up as she panted, desperate for breath. Sweat beaded her skin, chilling in the cool air while his breath puffed hotly over her pussy. His tongue lapped at her slickness, pushing into her before retreating to press against her clit. Again and again he repeated it, driving her higher, closer to release with agonizing quickness, pulling back just as she was ready to break.

Sobbing out something that had started as his name but ended in a strangled scream, her hips surged up when his lips latched onto her clit and his tongue lashed and flicked over it rapidly. The tension snapped, her body arching as pleasure crashed through her, so vivid that it was almost painful, every nerve spiraling into overdrive. The feel of his mouth, his breath, the tight grip on her wrists, even the leaves beneath her back and the air on her skin fed into her gratification, each sensation bleeding into the other until she wasn't sure if it was pleasure or pain she felt.

Unyeilding, he was releasing her wrists, covering her body with his own. When his lips pressed against hers she tasted the sweetness of her own pleasure in the kiss as his tongue plunged into her mouth and smoothed over hers. Still trembling from her orgasm, she allowed him to take, to command the kiss. Ruthless in his determination, he pressed his advantage, his hand moving between them. She felt the fur of his loincloth sliding over her flesh, startlingly soft compared to the harshness of his lips, and then it was gone, coarse hair and his cock resting against her pussy.

“Submit,” He snarled after breaking the kiss. The familiar refrain brought her back from her ecstasy, provoked the strange, snarling creature she had become. Pushing herself up, she pressed against him, pushed him back and crawled on top of him, body sliding over his. Feeling feral and sensual, she straddled his waist, felt his dick resting between the lips of her slit. 

She kissed his jaw, nipped at his chin, hands pushing against his chest until he was flat on his back. Unashamed, she shifted her hips, shivering as she slid of the length of his cock, every bump and ridge almost breaking her resolve as a tremor wracked her body.

Slowly, sensuously, she slid down his body, lips and tongue moving over his skin, teeth nipping his flesh as she moved lower. His hands spanned her flesh, finally tangling in her hair when her lips brushed lightly over the hot flesh of his cock. 

Still a virgin in all ways, it didn't occur to her that she might be bad, might do something wrong. Feeling sleek and powerfully sensual, she moved her lips over the hard flesh, taking purely feminine pride when his hips twitched and the hands in her hair tangled and tugged lightly. 

Moaning as she licked up the length of his shaft, she kissed and flicked her tongue over the tip, she wrapped her hand around him, pumping slowly as she wrapped her lips around the swollen head. Tasting her own desire mixing with the foreign taste of his skin, she circled the tip with her tongue, sucking lightly and moving down until her jaw began to ache before moving back up. She could feel him throbbing, pulsing in her mouth, could hear him snarling as his hips bucked up to try and force more of his cock into her mouth. 

Humming in her throat, she would have smiled if she could when a particularly vicious growl vibrated in his chest. As it was, a dark pleasure bloomed, something satisfied and greedy. His pleasure became her own as she moved, her hand continuing to move up and down his shaft while she laved the head, tongue flicking rapidly over it, emulating what he had done only minutes before.

When his pants came more quickly, when the tugging of her hair became painful, she moved back, self satisfied and ready to ensnare her prey. Sliding back up his form, making sure her breasts and stomach grazed over his dick, she straddled his waist again and kissed him, slipping her sex over his as she bit at his still swollen lower lip.

“Submit,” She whispered, looking down into his dazed eyes. 

As if she'd doused him with cold water, the strange, almost angry passion cleared the stunned shock and he was snarling, the hand in her hair tightening and pulling her head back. His other hand moved to her bottom, claws pricking the soft flesh of a cheek as he moved her, forced her to grind against him. Sinful, decadent pressure sparked heat, brought back the aching tension.

Self satisfied pride vanished when he moved, hands pushing her back roughly. Desperate to keep things even she got to her knees but was promptly knocked back again. Scrambling on the forest floor, she snarled defiantly when his arm wrapped around her chest, his chest pressing into her back. Struggling against his hold, she cried out when his teeth pressed into her shoulder only inches from where they had before, inciting another wave of pain as his free hand roughly squeezed her breast before pinching her nipple between two finely pointed claws. 

His youki became a smothering blanket, wrapping around her and pulsing angrily. She fought against it, pushing back even as he proved his physical strength superior, pushing her to the ground, hand firm between her shoulder blades. Catching herself on her palms, she was about to dart forward when she felt claws against her scalp and then the undeniable feeling of her hair being gathered and pulled. 

The head of his cock was hot, smooth as he rubbed it against her slit, sliding against her wetness before pulling back to tease her entrance with a modicum of pressure. The unfamiliar sensation of being penetrated, even if only slightly, was enough to send her to the edge, teetering dangerously as she moved her hips.

“Submit,” He demanded, voice little more than a sharp growl. Mewling desperately, she pushed back, ki flaring rebelliously even as she sought more of the sensation. The pressure increased and she felt herself stretching around him as he moved in a little more, still teasing her with the possibility of fulfillment. His youki buffeted against her in pulsing, domineering waves, colliding against her own. 

Too proud to give in, she thrust back against him, felt his his cock stretching her and friction burning he nerve endings right before he pierced her hymen, tearing it as he surged forward. A sound that was half anger and half shocked bellowed into the night, his hand tightening as he pulled back. Terrified he was going to stop, she followed, thrusting back only to have the air whoosh from her lungs when he pushed forward. The pain of losing her virginity was quickly lost, his constant thrusting providing too much sensation, too much pleasure to linger on the split second of agony. 

Bestial sounds echoed in the darkness, her own pleading coming out as cries and moans, his gratification echoing in snarls and rumbles. Hands untangled from her hair to grab her hips, grip bruising and claws pressing painfully into her skin. With every thrust he was filling her, stretching her impossibly wide around him. Pain laced and wove around the pleasure, claws pricking into her flesh carelessly as his hips bucked and he pulled her back. 

Every bite, every cut made by his claws burned as sweat misted her skin, dripped down between her breasts and along her lip. The rude sounds of wet flesh slapping together was drowned out by the ever increasing volume of her cries as the tension in her body wound tighter and tighter. Every atom of her being seemed focused on friction, the feel of him pressing against her cervix as he pumped in and out, pace increasing minute by minute.

Her orgasm was sharp in it's intensity, shattering her as she screamed her ecstasy. Kouga continued, each thrust only serving to push her further into the orgasm, forcing her to crest again and again until she forgot that anything existed outside of the intoxicating, suffocating gratification. 

When he came, his claws dug even more deeply into her hips and she could feel his cock pulsing, could feel the hot slickness of his come filling her. Moaning, the sensation triggering another peak, she shuddered as he stilled, the sounds of his satisfaction quieting to a low, unintelligible rumble.

Nothing was said as they came back to earth, as they both gasped for breath in the stillness of the forest. When he withdrew from her she shuddered, immediately missing the feel of him buried inside of her. Even when he picked her up as if she weighed nothing neither of them spoke, although his youki was wrapping around and weaving through her own, and she mimicked the action, body still trembling as the pleasure she'd felt ebbed and flowed. 

He moved swiftly, surely through the darkness, bypassing the clearing altogether and leaping from the ground up to a ledge, then another, using them as a stairway to a small cave. Noting that it was far too small to house the entire pack, she wondered if it was his alone. There was only one pallet, which he sat her own. The furs felt like heaven against her skin and she stretched languorously, humming lightly as he lay down next to her.

Despite the cave being cool, she didn't need to pull any of the furs over her, Kouga pulling her close with a quiet growl, his leg draping over hers and his arm draped over her waist. Exhaustion tugging at her, she closed her eyes and snuggled into his warmth, inhaling the scent of sex mixing with sweat and the sharp tang of the woods at night. 

~*~

When she woke, it was to warmth and to a low, pleased rumbling. Blinking several times, she looked up to equally dazed, bleary blue eyes.

“Morning,” He greeted, the word half lost in a yawn. His body shivered as he stretched his legs before burying his face in the crook of her neck.

The night before came back with defined clarity, and she blushed when she realized she could feel his stomach, his thighs, chest, everything, naked and pressed intimately against her equally bare flesh. For a moment she felt the first anxious, almost neausating beginnings of panic before something shoved at her rudely.

Shocked, she looked back up at him, surprised by his smug smirk.

“If you freak out I'm going to have to fight the dimwit, and I'm not really feeling up to it this morning,” He said, tapping her again with his youki. “Besides, we have to find you clothes. Unless you want to run around naked, not that I'd complain.”

He was being incredibly cavalier about the whole thing, and briefly she considered that he might have used the ritual to trap her. But the brief nuzzle against her cheek dispelled her anxiety and suspicion, along with his next statement.

“I know you have the village to look after, and I'm not dumb enough to believe that you were committing to anything last night. But thank you,” He murmured, lips brushing her cheek.

“Thank- what? Why?”

“Can't it be enough that I had a wonderful night, and that you trusted me enough to perform the rite, especially when neither of us was really sure what would happen.”

She still wasn't sure what had happened, other than she had engaged in a match of wills that had, in some perverse way, aroused her. Even the memory of the night before was enough to make her body tighten.

“Kagome, don't. If you start that, I'm not going to let you leave for at least a month,” He growled, lips brushing against her neck. She considered his words, knowing they shouldn't be tempting. But it was, and he groaned, fangs grazing the sensitive juncture of her neck and shoulder.

“You two stop playing grab ass right fucking now!” Inu Yasha's voice called out, sounding more frustrated than angry. 

A startled yelp erupted from her chest, turning into a breathless giggle when Kouga's rich chuckle puffed out over her skin. He squeezed her once before releasing her and standing. She watched him pull a fur from the pile and quickly fashion a sort of wrap, crude but effective enough to cover him before he walked over to the cave entrance.

“You don't want to come in here,” He warned before jumping from the ledge. She assumed he was speaking to Inu Yasha, and knowing the hanyou, she expected him to ignore the warning. But he didn't. In fact, it was several minutes before anyone came, and it was Kouga that arrived, a bundle in hand.

“They're not miko robes,” He shrugged, handing the bundle to her. She unfolded the clothing, surprised to see dark blue hakama and a kimono with shortened sleeves. It wasn't the best material, and as she dressed she tried not to flinch as the fabric rubbed against her skin unpleasantly. Once she had finished, she looked over her shoulder.

He was still in his makeshift loincloth, leaning against the cave wall and watching her intently. 

“You aren't sore,” He observed.

She hadn't thought about it, but once he called attention to it, she realized that she wasn't. In fact, she felt fine, which was strange. Remembering all too vividly what they had done the night before, she was certain she would have emerged with at least a few bruises. 

“Your hand,” He commanded, walking forward. She held her hand out, not understanding what he was looking for until he took it in his own and rubbed a thumb over a slightly raised pink scar.

It had healed.

Overnight.

“Kouga,” She whispered, uncertain and slightly afraid of the implications.

“My father, he said that if the ritual was performed correctly, the youkai and the miko would make an exchange. I thought, I mean, I thought it would just be our energy, something to solidify the alliance,” He said, eyes still pinned to her palm. “But maybe we got more, I don't know,” He admitted.

“More?”

“You've healed like a youkai.”

“I understand that,” She told him, looking from her hand back to his face. “But I don't understand. I thought most of the ritual was symbolic.”

“It's not. The blood was to open us up to one another's ki without doing damage to eachother. I don't know, I didn't think it was going to be like it was, something-” And there he stopped closing his mouth abruptly.

“Something?” She prodded gently, seeing his obvious discomfort.

“It just wasn't like I thought it was going to be,” He told her, tone saying only that he would say nothing further. Kagome nodded in understanding, picking up on what he wouldn't say aloud. The rite had evoked something strange, perhaps in the both of them, although she would be lying to herself if she said that it had been unpleasant. But in the light of day it felt as if she had turned into someone else, become something else. 

“I'll go through the scrolls. After last night I'm not entirely sure they were as biased as I thought,” She admitted. In fact, a great deal of what she had done had been written of in those scrolls. What she had assumed was simple bigotry had turned out to be, perhaps a colored version of events, but a fairly accurate one.

“Will you let me know?” He asked. She nodded in response, understanding his own concerns. 

“Will you two hurry the fuck up? You're not about to have sex again are you?” The petulant, angry voice called out.

“I should never have removed the necklace,” She muttered.

“Probably not,” Kouga chuckled. “Come on, I'll take you down.”

She didn't protest when he picked her up, in fact, she took the time to inhale his scent, reveling in the combinations of smells clinging to his skin. He was light on his feet, barely jarring her when he leapt from ledge to ledge, landing gracefully in front of Inu Yasha, who was red faced and stuttering.

“What mutt face?” Kouga asked, setting her on her feet.

“Your skirt-”

“It's not a skirt,” Kouga snapped.

“It fucking flew up. Kami asshole-”

“Get an eye full?” Kouga asked, smirking. 

When she hugged him and nuzzled his cheek, Inu Yasha was still sputtering, and when they walked away, some of the pack stumbling out to call out their farewells, the hanyou had taken to shell shocked silence.


End file.
